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"Tell me you want me, Samantha." He claimed her mouth in a hard, bruising kiss, then almost immediately calmed, sipping from her lips with gentle nibbles. "Tell me you want this," he murmured, and pressed his erection against the cleft of her body.
In response, she slipped her hands under his form-fitting shirt and traced the contours of his chest, stopping to rub her thumbs against his tight nipples. When he drew in a sharp breath, she smiled, a sultry curve of lips meant to be kissed, and kissed often. Her hands wandered around to his back and skimmed down his spine to slip under the waistband of his trousers, coming to rest on the curve of his ass.
"Are you sure you want this with me?" she whispered, her eyes searching his. "I'm nothing but a street rat, after all."
He took her mouth again, gently this time, assuring her without words she was exactly where he wanted her to be. When he drew back, they were both breathing faster. "You're so much more than a street rat, cher. Don't you ever put yourself down to me. Comprends?"
She nodded. "I understand." She brought her hands back up to his waist and he felt her take hold of the hem of his shirt. "I think you have on too many clothes for what you have in mind."
He grinned, the relief almost as great as his lust. She wanted him.
She'd have him.